Gale Had a Girlfriend
by lillianempire
Summary: Gale's departure makes things much more complicated than anyone could imagine. How will Walt, Jesse, and Gus deal with this new development? Rated M for swearing and some suggestive language.
1. Chapter 1

Gale Boetticher walked up the lab stairs. He could feel Walt's eyes on him and hear Jesse's exclamations as he walked out the door. He hung his head, feeling confused and sad. Today turned out to be nothing like he'd expected. He had woken up with his usual energy, grateful to be working in a lab, believing that he and Walter were working towards a common goal and that they were developing a good relationship. Gale had every reason to be positive that morning on his way to the lab: a new friend, an interesting job, and—a date!

Yes, a date. With a woman. A real, live woman.

He hadn't really been searching hard for a date. He joined a dating site months ago during a long weekend of loneliness but ended up not paying much attention to it. He figured trying to explain his occupation to a potential partner would be problematic, and besides, most women found him weird or assumed he was gay. He tried not to think about his embarrassingly minimal experience with romance and sex, which included two sexual encounters with girls (only one was actual sex) and one sexual encounter with a guy. He was becoming okay with the idea that maybe he just wasn't meant to be with anyone.

But Vanessa had been a surprise. A nice surprise.

Gale purposefully searched for a woman whose intelligence rested in a different realm than his. He had the logical, mathematical intelligence that science required as well as the curiosity. He hoped to meet someone whose intelligence complimented his rather than layered it. Vanessa was an artist. She painted murals and designed galleries throughout Albuquerque. Once they started exchanging messages she sent him a few photos of her work and Gale was impressed. It also helped that she was vegan like him. She wasn't pretty in a way that hit him all at once. Her prettiness deepened and expanded with each interaction.

He decided not to cancel their date, even though he was feeling less than confident. At least now he didn't have to hide his occupation. This made him feel slightly more optimistic. They were supposed to meet for something simple and quick that evening, just a drink. Gale arrived at the bar, thinking he was early. But he saw her through the window as he walked through the entrance, her unmistakable red hair and cat-eye glasses.

"Vanessa?" Gale noted her green eyes as she looked up at him. The photos of her on the site really didn't do them justice.

"Hi Gale," she smiled.

Suddenly nervous, Gale smiled back. "I hope you haven't been waiting long?"

"No, not at all."

They talked for a while about their interests, small talk, nothing heavy or intense. Slowly, Gale forgot about his day. He was having a nice time.

There was a pause in the conversation. Gale studied her for a minute. "Do you prefer classical or jazz?"

Vanessa gave him a puzzled look. "I like both, I guess. It depends on the mood I'm in. Why those two?"

Gale shrugged. "Just curious. If you had to pick one of those, though, which would it be?"

Vanessa looked amused. "Um, jazz, I guess."

Gale smiled. "Good. Me, too."

* * *

Gale felt awkward trying to be a gentleman and escorting Vanessa to her car. He wasn't sure if it was too old-fashioned of him or not. When they got to her car, she turned to him and smiled.

"I had a nice evening."

"I did, too. I'd like to see you again, if that's okay."

"I'd like that, too."

She was much shorter than him, he noticed. It made him feel tall as she smiled up at him. Gale knew there was something he was supposed to do at this point in the evening, but he just stood there.

"Well," Vanessa said after a few moments. "I guess I should get home." There was another awkward pause right before she gently kissed his cheek. He immediately tensed at the feeling of her warm breath on his skin.

"Goodnight," she said, getting into her car.

Gale stood in the parking lot until her car was gone. He put his hand up to where she kissed him and smiled. It wasn't a bad day after all.

* * *

Walt noticed how distracted Gale was that morning and how short Gale was with him throughout the day. Gus had brought him back because of Jesse. Walt expected things to be slightly strained between them since last time, but it wasn't strain Walt sensed. It was something else.

When it was safe to remove their gas masks, Walt went over to get some coffee. He watched Gale sweep up pieces of aluminum. "Gale?"

Gale looked up.

"Are you doing okay?"

Gale looked at Walt questioningly. Walt glanced up at Victor, who was pretending to read a magazine. No more private conversations in the lab.

"I mean…about last time," Walt said. "I''m sorry things ended the way they did."

Gale looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well, it's water under the bridge," he said as he emptied the dustpan into the trash.

Walt hesitated. That wasn't good enough. He couldn't have two people in this lab against him. "You sure?" Walt asked as he sipped his coffee. Gale came over and poured himself a cup. "You're a great chemist, Gale. I hope you know that."

Gale nodded. "Thank you. I appreciate that."

Walt wasn't sure what else to say. They both stood, sipping their coffee in awkward silence.

"Walt," Gale said, tapping thoughtfully on his mug. "Can I ask you something a bit personal?"

Walt looked warily up at Victor. "Sure. I guess."

"I noticed your wedding ring when we first met, and I've been wondering if she knows?" Gale gestured around them. "You know, about all this?"

Walt took a sip of his coffee even though his mug was empty. They'd never discussed anything that personal before. "She knows. Not everything, of course. But she knows what I do every day."

Gale nodded thoughtfully. "I see. Did you tell her or did she just sort of figure it out?"

Walt glanced back up at Victor. He'd been reading the same page for twenty minutes at least. "Why do you want to know this?"

Gale set his mug down. "Well…I've met someone."

Walt grinned. Gale had a woman? It was hard to imagine. "Oh. Do you think this is something that will last?"

"I want it to. I would just rather know now if she's okay with it, instead of waiting too long, and by then…," Gale shrugged. "I know there's a lot I can't tell her, but she should know the gist of what I do, right?"

Walt thought of Skylar and where their relationship was at now. What if he had told her sooner? Would things be different now?

"You don't have to tell her everything," Walt said quietly. "Just enough so she knows what she's getting into. It's best she doesn't know too much," he looked up a Victor who had stopped pretending to read and was looking at them. "It's safer for her that way."

* * *

Tonight was the night.

Gale had cleared his books off the coffee table where he set a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon and two wine glasses. He couldn't decide which side of the sofa to sit on when he told her. The side closest to the door so he could stop her and explain if she tried to leave? The side closest to the kitchen so he could get more liquid courage if he needed it? And he would need it. Tonight had to be the night he told her.

They were getting closer and Gale was falling deeper in love with her. Her kisses came with the promise of something else and Gale knew that before that something else happened he had to tell her the truth. It would only hurt both of them if he waited any longer. It would certainly hurt tonight if she left him, but Gale wanted this to work. He wouldn't be cooking meth forever, and he had to be sure to tell her that, but hiding it would only make it worse.  
He was fussing over every detail of his apartment, from the way the rugs were arranged to how his plants should be, when there was a knock on the door. Gale waited a few seconds, took a breath, then opened the door.

Vanessa looked extra pretty. Her black and white dress was tighter than most of the clothes he'd seen her in and it hugged her full-figure perfectly. The green gems in her earrings and necklace matched her eyes, smiling at him from behind those indelible cat-eye glasses.

Gale forgot how to talk for a few seconds.

Vanessa blushed. "I hope I'm not too early….," she began.

"No," he replied, finally finding his voice. "Not at all. You're perfect. I mean…you look so perfect. And you're not early….you're absolutely breath-taking."

Vanessa smiled, her blush deepening on her cheeks and neck.

Gale gestured for her to come in. This was going to be difficult. If he couldn't see her again after tonight….Gale led her to the sofa. She sat on the side closest to the door. Easier access to alcohol it would be for him then. It was probably for the best. This wasn't going to be easy; with her looking this way and his anxiety it would be hard to say what he needed to without getting distracted by thoughts.

"So…," he began. "Are you comfortable? Would you like some wine?"

"Sure," she replied. She inched closer to him, crossing one leg over the other. Her musky, sugary perfume radiated around her.

He poured her a glass. "I need to talk to you about something."

"Okay," she took a sip and reached for his hand. He hoped this would not be the last time.

"I…I really like you," he began. "I really like you a lot." That was a lie; he loved her and he knew it. He also knew he didn't want to scare her off any more than he was about to.

"When I told you I work in a lab, I wasn't entirely forthcoming." He took a deep breath. "The lab I work in…is kind of illegal because of what we make."

She looked concerned. "Oh."

Gale plowed on before he lost his nerve. "We make…meth. We make crystal meth. I'm a meth cook." He closed his eyes and braced himself. It was out now.

There was silence except for the sound of his upstairs neighbors walking around. Vanessa uncrossed her legs and looked thoughtfully down at her shoes, but she didn't take her hand away from his. Gale held his breath; why wasn't she saying anything?

"I'm sorry," he blurted out. "I'm so sorry, Vanessa. I had to tell you. I want to be honest because I want this to last. And I won't be doing this forever. A couple more months and then I'm done." He couldn't tell what she was feeling or thinking. "But if continuing this job means losing you, then I'll stop. I'll stop now."

She looked at him and put her hand to his cheek. "Gale," she said softly. "I'm glad you told me the truth. I like you, too."

Gale felt his face growing warm underneath her hand, relieved she wasn't angry. She traced her thumb over his bottom lip and he thought he might faint with desire.

She looked back down at her shoes, then into his eyes again. "How long have you been doing it?"

"Long enough."

She looked at him, expecting more detail. She was silent for a few minutes. Gale wasn't sure if the silence was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Well," she began. "This is new for me."

"This is actually new for me, too," Gale said quietly. "I haven't had a lot of dates. I didn't think I would ever need to have this conversation with anyone."

Vanessa said nothing for a minute or two. She drank the rest of her wine.

"You're so smart, Gale. Why would you do this? Why not teach or something?"

He had expected a question like that. "I just really love the lab." He took both her hands in his. "Imagine you couldn't paint. You could either talk about it or write about it, but not actually do it. Wouldn't it feel artificial somehow? And if someone came along and offered you the chance to paint all day long and get paid for it, the catch being it was somehow illegal, wouldn't you at least consider it?"

Vanessa looked at Gale. He wasn't a criminal, she knew that. But did he understand that meth killed people? That it ruined lives and tore apart families? It was the science he liked. From their very first email exchange she knew science was his foundation. All his beliefs and values were built upon it. Still, how could he morally justify making a drug that caused so much pain and suffering?

"Do you work for like a gang or the mob or something?"

Gale laughed softly. "It's not like that. It's run like a business."

Vanessa nodded again, then stood up. "I think I should go."

Gale's face fell. "Oh. Okay."

"I want to keep seeing you. I just need to think about this."

Gale walked her to the door. Vanessa saw the sad look in his eyes. She kissed him gently, and Gale thought he might melt into a puddle. He hoped this wasn't the last time.

* * *

Gale looked surprised to see Gus at his door. "Mr. Fring?"

Gus caught the flowery scent of women's perfume coming from Gale's apartment. "Hello, Gale," Gus hesitated. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

"No, not at all," Gale grinned. "Please come in."

Gus glanced around Gale's apartment, not at all surprised by the decor. He looked around for a purse, jewelry, or lipstick-stained cups, but there were none. Gus sat on Gale's couch as Gale pulled his computer chair over. Gus told Gale about Walt''s illness and, as planned, wanted to know when Gale could cook on his own. Gus had been right about Gale's reaction—one of concern and an eagerness to help in any way he could. Gale wasn't suspicious at all.

Gus left Gale's apartment and went out to the car where Mike and Victor were waiting. Gus got in the passenger seat. "Watch his apartment. See who visits him. We might have a problem."

Mike and Victor exchanged glances.

"And if there is a problem?" Mike asked.

"Then take care of it," Gus replied.

* * *

Gale looked up at the ceiling of his bedroom. The sun was starting to go down and an orange-pink light came in through the blinds. It made Vanessa's red hair glow as she curled up next to him. Gale sighed and pulled her close to him. They hadn't left his bed all day, and he didn't want to leave it now. He had gone years without being with anyone, without physical intimacy, without being close to someone. There was no way he could go that long again, now that he knew what he'd been missing.

When he first knew it was going to happen, when Vanessa started to take off his clothes, he'd stammered to her nervously that it had been a while for him. Like a long while. He was nervous. She'd smiled and put her arms around him. "We don't have to do anything," she'd said. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable with me."

Gale just wanted to be ready. He wanted his bedroom ready, the perfect temperature set, and just the right lighting. So, she agreed to humor him and come back the next night. Everything was ready for her, including him. The perfect setting for someone he found so perfect in every way. The very first time had been quick, frantic, clumsy, and lasting only a couple of minutes; they were still mostly clothed. But the more they made love, the more confident Gale became. He figured out her body, what she liked and what she didn't. The past few days had been wonderful. She didn't bring up the meth conversation again and, not wanting to disrupt the harmony between them, he didn't either.

"I need to go home for a few minutes and feed my pets," she was saying as he got lost in the feeling of her bare skin against his.

"I thought you already did," he ran his fingers through her hair.

"Yeah, like ten hours ago," she giggled. She sat up and began to get dressed.

He got up with her and also got dressed.

"I just need to go over there feed them, get a change of clothes, and I'll be back," she said. She pulled Gale over to her and kissed him deeply.

"Change of clothes? You want to stay over?"

She blushed. "Well, yeah. I mean, if that's okay with you."

"Of course it is," he kissed her again. He wanted her to stay all the time, but it was too soon to talk about something like that. They had plenty of time to work up to it.

She opened the door, smoothing out her hair. "I'll be right back," she smiled.

Gale pulled her in for another kiss. He looked into her eyes and thought maybe for a second it would be okay to say it, but the feeling went away. This wouldn't be the last time.

"Okay," he said.

She squeezed his hand, then left. Gale shut the door, and felt like singing. He put on some music and decided to make some tea. He was thinking maybe they could watch a movie later, when there was a knock at his door.

Gale opened the door to a young guy with tears in his eyes. He looked vaguely familiar.

"Hi…uh, can I help you?"

The guy reached behind him and pulled out a gun.

* * *

Vanessa saw a rectangle of light spilling out into the hallway. She watched an elderly gentleman in a robe peer into the open doorway. She felt curious, then she began to feel sick. She walked quickly into a run down the hallway that seemed to make the hallway longer. When she reached Gale's door, the elderly man was on the phone.

There was blood smeared on Gale's rugs as he had attempted to crawl away from the door to his phone. He had stopped and was lying on his stomach.

Vanessa went over to him and turned him over.

"Hey," the elderly gentleman called, "do you know him? Do you know what happened? I don't think you should be moving him like that."

Gale was still alive, barely. Blood was at the corners of his mouth. Vanessa took off her scarf and pressed it into the widening red oval on Gale's abdomen.

"I don't know," the old man said into his phone. "There''s a girl here that appears to know him. Miss? Do you know what happened?"

Vanessa cradled Gale's head in her lap. His eyes blurred with tears, afraid. He tried to say something.

"It's going to be okay," Vanessa whispered. "You're going to be okay." She looked at the elderly man in the doorway. A young couple stood behind him. "Are they on the way?"

"Yes," he answered. "Do you know him?"

Vanessa looked down at Gale again. His eyes were closing slowly, like a sleepy child. "Stay with me," she whispered. He was trying to fight it, but he was going to lose consciousness soon.

"Please tell them to hurry," Vanessa said to the old man. "I can't lose him. We can't lose each other like this."

Gale's eyes closed and didn't open again.

* * *

When Victor saw the ambulance lights, he knew he was too late. But he had to see, to know for sure. Victor ran down the hall, looking at apartment numbers when he saw the paramedics pull out a stretcher. Gale wasn't in a body bag. One paramedic was shouting vital signs at the other as they pulled the stretcher down the hall. Victor backed into a corner and watched as they attempted to lift the stretcher down stairs at the other end of the hall.

Jesse hadn't killed him after all. He shot Gale, but failed to make sure Gale was dead. Victor shook his head. Stupid mistake. Gale could still die, but he could also live. This bought them some time. Victor walked to Gale's apartment. The door was still wide open and the small crowd that had gathered out in the hall were busy following the spectacle down the stairs. Victor stopped short when he saw her, the redheaded girl picking up Gale's wallet and keys. She turned suddenly and looked right at him. For a second, Victor was caught off guard, then he ran down the hall to his car. He had forgotten about her; forgot to check for her car in the parking lot. Victor was going towards his car to follow the ambulance, when he caught sight of Jesse, sitting in his car, staring at nothing.

"Little piece of shit," Victor muttered. He got in the passenger side, putting a gun to Jesse's head. "Drive, you little bastard!"

Jesse complied easily. He looked dazed, almost zombie-like.

When they arrived at the lab, Mike and Walt watched Jesse and Victor parade slowly down the steps.

"Well?" Mike asked.

Victor pushed Jesse into a chair next to Walt. "Kid shot him. But…he's not dead. He's still alive."

Mike stared a Victor for a minute, then looked at Jesse, and back at Victor again. "Alive? Alive how? Talking and walking around?"

"No. He was out when they took him."

"Out?"

"Unconscious."

"Where was he shot? Did you see? Did you see how much blood he lost?"

Victor hesitated.

"What did you see?!" Mike snapped, making everyone jump.

"I didn't get a good look. The girl was there."

"The girl?" Mike glared at Victor. "Did she see you?"

Victor avoided Mike's eyes. He said nothing.

"Did she see you?"

Victor didn't answer.

Mike hit Victor with the butt of his gun. "Did she see you, dammit!"

Victor put his hand to his lip. "Yes! But it was only for a second, okay? I ran as soon as she saw me."

Mike appeared to contemplate something for a minute, looking at all three men. Walt wondered if "the girl" was the one Gale had mentioned to him before. Had he told her? If so, wouldn't that make him more of a liability? If Gale lived and The Girl knew, they would both be a problem for Gus…

Walt started to speak but Mike interrupted. "Go back to the hospital," he said to Victor. "You call me the minute he wakes up or his heart stops, you understand?""

Victor nodded, still wiping blood from his lip.

"And for Christ sakes don't let her see you!"

Victor left the lab, and Mike took out his phone. "I really don't want to make this phone call, Walt. You two had to make this so hard, didn't you? And you,"" he gestured to Jesse. "You can't even kill someone right."

Mike dialed Gus's number and waited. "It's me. We've got a situation."

* * *

Vanessa sat in the waiting room of the hospital, her bloody scarf still balled up in her hand. She hadn't been much help to the police. She stared straight ahead in a daze as they talked to her, shaking her head or shrugging. She hadn't seen anyone or heard anything. They finally gave up and promised they would come back.

A woman in blue scrubs came into the room. "Mrs. Boetticher?"

Vanessa looked up, hesitated. "No. I'm not….," she paused for a minute. "Just call me Vanessa."

The doctor sat down. "Vanessa, I'm Dr. Ward. Your husband is stable. He's lost a great deal of blood, but we replaced as much as we could. We're hoping he regains consciousness in the next few hours."

Vanessa nodded tiredly. What did all that mean? Why did they have to be so vague?

"Right now, we're keeping him sedated, but we'll take him off of it in the morning to see if he wakes up on his own." Dr. Ward paused. "Sometimes with this amount of blood loss there can be effects on the brain."

Vanessa looked down at the dried blood on her hands. She hadn't thought to wash them since arriving at the hospital.

"The effects could be minor to serious depending on a number of factors." The doctor paused again until Vanessa looked at her. "He might not remember what happened or remember you, for that matter. Lack of blood to the brain usually has a negative effect on memory."

Vanessa nodded again. "Can I see him?"

Dr. Ward studied Vanessa's face carefully, unsure if she understood anything that was just said to her. "Sure. Come on."

Gale looked the way Vanessa expected him to: hooked up to beeping machines, tubes up his nose and in his arms, and his eyes taped shut. Vanessa pulled a chair close beside him and sat down, looking over all the machines keeping him alive. The doctor lingered in the doorway, then rushed off down the hall, responding to a page. Vanessa shut the door, and got as close to Gale as she could. She lay her head on his shoulder and took his hand in hers. She listened to his artificial breath and felt her forehead against his lukewarm skin. It was only then that she was finally able to cry.

* * *

Vanessa woke with a start, the remnants of a dream still in front of her face. A dream filled with red blood and white walls. She had fallen asleep curled up in the chair. Her neck cramped from the awkward position. She reached out to Gale's hand and kissed it, then she kissed his forehead. "Good morning," she whispered. His skin seemed warmer today.

Vanessa wasn't sure if she was allowed to still be there or not. She decided she didn't care and went in search of a sink to wash her face and hands. She found a water fountain instead and a clock that read 6:47am. Down the hall, Vanessa saw a man in scrubs staring at her. His eyes were dark brown and angry. He was oddly familiar in a way she could not place.

She sat next to Gale again, stroking his hand, listening to his breath. Was there more she could be doing besides just sitting here? She took out his cell phone to find family members to call. She wasn't sure if he had any or where they lived. He'd never really mentioned them to her. She searched through his contacts, but there was only one number for a G.F. She frowned, puzzled. Who was G.F.? Girlfriend? But it wasn't her number.

Suddenly, the monitor began to beep rapidly, alarmingly. She didn't know what to do, she yelled for help and a few nurses rushed in. Vanessa stood up from her chair as they shouted. They wheeled a crash cart into the room, pushing her out of the way. "You should leave ma'am," one of them yelled. They pressed the paddles of a defibrillator to his bare chest, yelling clear. It did nothing. Vanessa continued to back away to the other side of the room, until she felt the wall behind her. It was the only thing keeping her standing. She covered her ears to block out the horrible beeping noises. Gale's chest seized with electricity as they continued to shock him back to life. But Gale was no longer here. He was gone, and he had probably been gone since he closed his eyes with his head in her arms and his blood on her hands.

They kept working on him until one of the doctors, looking defeated, said they should call it.

"Time of death – 7:33am." The words echoed all over the room.

They turned around to her as she slid down the wall to the floor.

"Mrs. Boetticher?" It was Dr. Ward, but she looked blurry to Vanessa. "Mrs. Boetticher?"

Vanessa felt the room close in on her. The last thing she saw was the man with the angry eyes looking in from the doorway, a scowl on his face. She knew who he was, but then everything went black.

* * *

Mike sat across from Walt and Jesse, gun in his hand. Jesse was dazed still, staring down at the floor. Walt was insistent they start cooking.

"Gus would be very upset if we missed a cook, is all I'm saying," Walt grumbled.

Mike looked at him, unconcerned, disinterested. Mike knew Gus would be very upset if he didn't have a chemist to cook for him. Whoever it would be, they could make up the time. Mike's phone buzzed in his pocket. He answered without taking his eyes off his prisoners. "Yeah?"

Walt and Jesse looked at each other. They were either going to die or carry on as usual.

Mike leaned forward in his chair as he listened. He looked angrily at Jesse. "You sure? You absolutely positive?"

A pause. "Alright. Wait…did anyone see you?" Another pause. "You better be sure about that." Mike hung up, then dialed another number. Walt held his breath.

"Yeah, it's me," Mike said. "He's gone. Yeah, they pronounced him just a few minutes ago."

Walt turned to Jesse, whose face turned white as paper. He had done it. Jesse killed Gale. Walt wasn't sure if he should feel relief or remorse. Gale was dead, but it meant they would live.

"Fine," Mike said before he hung up. He stood up, putting his gun back in his pocket. "Start cooking." Walt and Jesse watched as he climbed the stairs and left them alone in the lab.

The two of them sat in stunned silence for a few moments. Walt turned to Jesse.

"Did you see a girl there?"

Jesse sat slumped in his chair. He didn't appear to have heard Walt.

"Jesse?"

Jesse turned slowly and looked at Walt, his eyes red and glassy.

"Was there a girl there?"

Jesse slowly shook his head. "No." He was sure Gale was alone. Alone and completely taken by surprise. Did Gale remember him from that day in the lab?

 _You don't have to do this…_

It made Jesse feel worse that there was someone in Gale's life that he cared about and probably cared about him. He had changed his mind at the last minute and shot Gale in the torso, thinking maybe it would give doctors time to save him and him and Walt would have time to think of something else. He'd screwed everything up.

Walt stood. "We should get started."

A few hours later, Mike came back. He stood at the top of the stairs watching them, gun in his hand. Neither Jesse nor Walt knew how long he'd been standing there when they noticed him.

"Do we have to be baby-sat now?" Walt mumbled to Jesse. Jesse said nothing.

Jesse crushed the sheets of blue, and they weighed it, like usual. Like last night never happened. Mike stared down at them with his expression of perpetual disinterest.

Walt looked up at Mike. "You know he told her, don't you?"

Mike said nothing.

"He stood right here and told me he'd met someone. He was debating on whether or not to tell her. Gus might want to know about it."

"Why don't you shut up and do what you're being paid to do," Mike replied.

"All I'm saying is she could be a problem for Gus —"

"Shut the fuck up!" Mike yelled, his voice echoing through the lab. "Shut your fucking mouth, Walter! Is this not enough for you that you've got to go picking on a defenseless woman now? You got what you wanted. Now shut your mouth and cook!"

Walt stared up at Mike. They probably already knew about her. Maybe she was harmless. Maybe Gale never told her a thing. But if she did they were all in danger of her talking to the police. Or the DEA. What if Gale talked about him? What if Gale told her his name? Walt went back over to the scale to record the weights. Of course Mike and Gus wouldn't do anything to protect him. They would abandon him and probably kill him the first chance they got. It was up to him and Jesse to silence that girl.


	2. Chapter 2

Detective Tim Roberts smiled tightly. He grew impatient, but he didn't want her to notice. He was sure Vanessa wasn't telling him everything. She was hiding something from him. She looked tired, and he couldn't blame her for her exhaustion, after all she'd been through.

"Are you sure he never mentioned the kind of lab he worked in?"

She shook her head. They sat at her kitchen table. Her knee bounced up and down rapidly, her arms crossed; a mixture of defensive and anxious body language.

"We weren't really together that long," she said.

"Right, but you're the closest person to him that we know of right now." He glanced down at the cell phone she'd given him. It was likely any calls made to and from that phone would be to burners like this one. They probably wouldn't figure out much, but it was strange that Gale only had one phone number stored: G.F. No family numbers, not even his girlfriend? None of the techs scavenging Gale's apartment for evidence had found any other phones. Right now, the techs were in the process of analyzing data on his computer: emails, website visits, and social media.

"And you can't think of anyone Gale mentioned or alluded to that would want to do him harm?"

Vanessa shook her head again, her bouncing knee relaxing a little. Maybe she was being more truthful that time.

Roberts finished scribbling his notes and stood up. "You will contact me if you think of anything, right?"

"Of course," she said, standing and walking him to the door.

As Roberts turned to leave, a thought struck him. "Vanessa, is Gale's dating site profile still up?"

"No. He took it down after we started seeing each other."

"Okay. Well, I'll be in touch." Roberts walked out to his car, and drove away. He knew she was hiding something, but he had to be careful not to press her too hard. She was mourning a loss, after all. He couldn't help the nagging thought that Gale Boetticher may have been involved in some illegal dealings. He took out his phone at the next stop light and dialed the local DEA office.

"Detective Hank Schrader, please."

"I'm sorry, he's out on medical leave," the receptionist replied. "I can put you through to his partner, Steve Gomez, but you'll have to leave a message."

"No, that's okay. This is Tim Roberts with the Albuquerque Police. Do you think maybe I could get his home number?"

* * *

Vanessa shut the door behind the detective and went over to her bookshelf. She wondered how much jail time she would serve for withholding evidence as she pulled Gale's "Lab Notes" from behind her collection of Renaissance art books. She'd seen it the night he went to the hospital and quickly put it in her purse. She'd gathered up anything Gale would need as if he would be leaving the hospital, alive and well, and coming home. She didn't want the police to see the notebook; she felt obligated to protect his secret.

She sat on her couch and flipped through the notebook again. It was filled with formulas, lists, numbers, and sketches. On one of the last pages, the blue ink still bright and fresh looking, he'd written "V.A.M." with a heart around it. Her initials, Vanessa Anne Meyers, and below it a Lord Byron poem, "She Walks In Beauty." She knew he'd been memorizing it, like he memorized Italian songs and Walt Whitman, to recite to her. Vanessa held the notebook to her chest. It was like he was still alive. In a few minutes, he'd come to her door, with flowers maybe, a huge grin, and they'd watch foreign films. Everything would be just like it was.

She didn't know why she was hiding his notes from the police. Just like she didn't know why she couldn't cry. The horrifying image of the hospital staff trying to shock him back to life and the long, high-pitched beep of death haunted her dreams. But she'd been unable to cry since the night he was admitted. She felt like she was behind and needed time to catch up to what had happened; as if she hadn't had time to process each individual event to her satisfaction. Now, she felt compelled to protect his secret until it was all processed and filed away. It was hard for her to reconcile the Gale that had trouble unhooking her bra to the one that created a deadly and addictive drug. Maybe that was why she held on to the notes: it wasn't him. He wasn't a Mad Scientist Drug Overlord, which would be exactly what the police would see in these notes. They wouldn't see how he blushed every time he saw her naked, or how he liked to sing karaoke, or how he giggled at The Three Stooges.

Still, she would have to eventually give them up. Just not now. On a tiny slip of paper in the notebook she'd written the phone numbers for G.F. and W.W. She was sure no one would answer if she called them, if they were still in use at all, but she wanted all the information the police had for herself. She carefully put Gale's notebook back behind her own books. It would have to stay hidden for now.

* * *

"Hi, can I help you?" Marie asked as she answered the door.

"Hi, I called earlier. My name is Detective Tim Roberts with the Albuquerque Police," he showed Marie his badge. "I'm here to see Hank Schrader."

"Oh! Yeah, he'll be happy to have company," Marie welcomed him in.

Hank was examining rocks/minerals when Roberts walked in the room. Marie came in as well. "Hey, Hank look who is here to see you!"

Hank looked embarrassed as he pushed his rocks aside. Roberts sat down. "I won't take up too much of your time, Hank. I just wanted you to take a look at this case I'm working on."

"Oh yeah?" Hank went back to looking at his rocks.

"Yeah. This guy, Gale Boetticher, was shot in his apartment a few days ago. He died in the hospital the next morning. No one saw anything or heard anything other than one gunshot. According to his girlfriend he worked in a lab." Roberts gave Hank a picture of Gale.

Hank looked at it disinterestedly.

"I'm pretty sure his girlfriend isn't being completely honest with me. She said he never elaborated on his job. He had degrees in chemistry. Very intelligent guy. The thing is — we found hundreds of thousands of dollars in cash hidden around his apartment."

Hank paused with slight surprise, then shrugged. "And?"

"And I'm wondering what kind of lab tech has that kind of money just laying around. I heard you were the expert on the meth trade in this area. I have a feeling Gale Boetticher may have been involved somehow."

Hank picked up one of his rocks and turned it around in his hand. "I don't know. Seems kind of a stretch."

Roberts looked at Hank. This guy was completely housebound and had nothing to occupy his mind other than all those rocks. Roberts had heard about what happened and felt sympathy for Hank, but he hoped Hank didn't really believe all this was a stretch.

"Well," Roberts said. "I'll leave this folder here for you to look at. Gale's girlfriend, Vanessa's, info is in there, too. Maybe you can talk to her and get some more out of her. Like I said, I'm pretty sure she's hiding something."

Hank nodded. "Yeah. Maybe. But I think it's a real stretch."

* * *

Walt waited until Victor went to the bathroom, then whispered to Jesse.

"Jesse."

Jesse had his ear buds in as he cracked the sheets of blue, not hearing Walt at all. Walt went over to him and pulled out one of the ear buds.

"Hey,"

"What?" Jesse snapped. He had been acting strangely over the past week or so. There was a darkness behind his expressions and words now. Although concerned, Walt thought it was best not to prompt Jesse too much into talking about that night. He knew killing Gale had to be fucking with Jesse's head, but how does one begin to even process that?

"After work. We need to talk," Walt whispered.

Jesse nodded numbly, put his ear bud back in, and turned the music louder.

After work they both made their way outside of the facility. Jesse went to his car and Walt went to his. They both stood, silently challenging the other. Jesse rolled his eyes and gave in, getting in Walt's car.

"We need to figure out what our next moves are going to be," Walt began once they were out on the highway.

Jesse said nothing, leaning his head back on the seat.

"Gus is going to kill us. We can be sure of that. Once he's done with us, he will kill us. So, we need to strike first." Walt glanced to Jesse to see if he was listening. He looked as if he was going to sleep. "And we need to find that girl Gale was seeing."

"Are we gonna waste her, too, yo? Shoot her in the face?" Jesse glared at Walt.

"No," Walt said, taken aback. "No. Of course not. We just need to make sure she doesn't go to the police."

"Maybe she already has."

"No. We're still cooking. Something would have happened by now."

Jesse looked silently out the window, watching the desert landscape flash by. A crazy thought struck him for a second: it really didn't bother him if Gus did kill them or if The Girl went to the cops. Neither dying nor prison really scared him anymore.

"I'm thinking poison for Gus," Walt was saying. "Make some more ricin."

Jesse was still silent, thoughts tangled up in his brain.

Walt glanced at him. He had to get Jesse to trust him again and respect his judgment; otherwise neither of them would survive this.

"Jesse," Walt ventured. "The only reason why you and I are here right now is because Gale isn't." He paused. "It had to be done. Gale was a good man, but it was our only option."

"Oh, really?! Was it?" Jesse's voice had an icy edge to it, like the sharp tip of an iceberg. "No other options, really?!"

"He would have done the same to us, if the situation were different."

"No," Jesse shook his head, a rage rising within him. "He wasn't capable."

"Everyone is capable of killing," Walt retorted darkly. "Anyone who believes otherwise deserves what they get."

The coldness in Walt's words and logic made Jesse nauseated. "Take me back. I need to go home."

"Not until we're agreed on what to do."

"Turn around, okay? I don't want to do this now."

"Oh, okay, Jesse. When should we do it, then? When Gus has Mike and Victor tie us up and dump us in a hole? Or maybe after he's sent someone to gun us down in the lab for easy clean up? How about then?"

Walt's tone made Jesse furious. "I said turn around, bitch!" He grabbed the steering wheel. The car began wildly zigzagging on the two lane road as the two of them fought for control. Walt slammed on the brakes and the car spun in a circle, coming to rest just before tumbling down a ravine. The two men caught their breath for a second, looking at how close they'd come to rolling down the hill.

"Jesse, we have to have a plan." Walt said finally. "Or else we might as well shoot ourselves."

"What does it matter!" Jesse snapped. "What the fuck does it matter what I think? Huh? We're going to do what you want. What you think is the best."

"No, we're partners. We have to agree."

"Well, I don't agree, okay? I don't agree we should kill anyone. How's that, bitch?"

Walt was quiet for a minute or two. "Fine. If you don't agree, then we won't do it. But you have to think of something else. We have to do something, Jesse. Not wait around for something to happen to us."

Jesse didn't trust him. He was doing some mind game shit. Some kind of manipulation. Whatever Jesse suggested, Walt would find fault with. The sad part was that he would be right. Gus hated Jesse, had never liked him, and now Gus hated Walt. There was no way he was going to let them live.

They sat in silence for a long while. Jesse tugged at a hole in his jeans, making it bigger. He didn't have a plan. He didn't have any other suggestions, but he wasn't ready to admit that yet.

"Well," Walt began. "I see you're just full of great ideas. But we can't do them all. We only have to pick one." The sarcasm in the man's voice made Jesse want to push him down the hill, watch him roll over the terrain, smash his head on rocks until he was a broken heap at the bottom.

Walt put the car into gear and began to drive back. "Then we are agreed. We poison Gus, then we find The Girl and make sure she doesn't talk to the police."  
Jesse tugged at the hole, pulling away threads.

"Okay?" Walt said.

Jesse put his face in his hands. The fight left him and he felt helpless, defeated.

"Okay."

* * *

"Hello?"

"Can I speak to Ms. Vanessa Meyers, please?"

"This is she."

"Hello Ms. Meyers. This is Detective Schrader with the DEA. How are you today?"

Vanessa rolled her eyes and sat down at the table. Why couldn't they just do their thing and leave her out of it?

"I'm okay. I've already talked to Mr. Roberts…."

"Oh, I know. Just wanted to clear a few things up, if that's okay?"

Vanessa hesitated. No, it wasn't okay. She was tired of talking about Gale. She was tired of the effort she had to put into making sure her story was the same every time.

"It's fine."

"By the way, I'm very sorry for your loss."

Vanessa said nothing.

"So, did you and Gale ever go out to eat anywhere?"

"Yeah."

"Did he have any particular dietary restrictions or habits?"

Puzzled at this line of questioning, Vanessa thought for a moment. "Well, he's vegan. I mean…was. I am, too."

"Ah, so I guess sometimes that's hard to accommodate at like a fast food joint, right?"

"Yeah. It is a lot easier to just cook your own food."

"Hmm." Detective Schrader paused for a minute. "Well, I'm wondering then what Gale was doing at a chicken place, Los Pollos Hermanos? Heard of it?"

"Yeah…" Vanessa was confused. What did this have to do with anything? She could hear Schrader shuffling papers through the phone.

"Yeah. That place really isn't vegan-friendly. There's a bag from the place among the evidence in Gale's apartment. I'm just curious why he would have that."

"I have no idea," Vanessa said truthfully. "I don't know why he would have been there."

"Did he know someone there?"

"I don't think so. He didn't seem to have too many friends."

"I see."

Vanessa waited for him to explain, but he didn't. "Detective Schrader, I'm not sure what this has to do with Gale's murder."

"Just trying to get a better picture of the guy. That's all." A pause. "He never explained to you what kind of work he did?"

Vanessa sighed. This again. "No. He didn't talk about it."

"Okay. Well, thank you for your time Ms. Meyers. We'll be in touch." He hung up.

Vanessa stared at the phone for a minute. What was Gale doing at Los Pollos Hermanos? She remembered the recipes he'd written in his notebook, all vegan. She never once saw him consume anything from an animal of any kind, including honey. Nothing was making any sense.

Hank looked at the paper bag. He purposely didn't tell Vanessa about the number written on it. She seemed very confused by the fact that Gale had been to a chicken place to begin with, so she probably would have no idea what the number meant. He already knew, anyway, and it left no doubt in Hank's mind that Gale was involved in the meth trade. If Gale Boetticher wasn't Heisenberg, then he probably knew who Heisenberg was. At the very least, Gale was probably only one or two steps away from the guy. Hank could also detect what Roberts did: Vanessa wasn't being forthright for some reason.

The doorbell rang and Hank could hear Marie cheerfully greeting his physical therapist. He carefully tried to get off the bed himself. He had to start walking. Now.

* * *

Vanessa knew she didn't really need to get the pregnancy test. It would just confirm what she already knew. She sat on her bathroom floor, the positive test at her side. She pulled up her shirt and looked down at her round, white belly. How much bigger would it get? When would she start to feel it move? She was stunned at how alarmingly calm she felt. Like this was just normal and expected after all she'd been through.

She tried to think of which time it could have been when she conceived. When did they stop using protection? It must have been the day before he was shot. Had they really forgotten the condom? She thought about how attentive he was, how awkward, fumbling, and intense it was with him. She could see his need to please her all over his face. He never said it, but she could tell by the way he touched her and kissed her that he loved her. She decided that would be the night she conceived.

She closed her eyes and tried to imagine him here now. He would be so happy, smiling, tears in his eyes. "I'm going to be a father," he'd say as he wrapped her up in his arms. He would obsess over the details, the science. He'd know more about the mass of cells multiplying inside her than she would. He would sing in Italian and Spanish to her swollen stomach. She placed a hand over her womb. He was gone, but part of him was not. If she was going to be deprived of the father of her child, then there needed to be something to replace the loss. She stood up and splashed cold water on her face. She looked at herself in the mirror. The baby would probably have his eyes, brown eyes, and her red hair.

Her eyes filled with tears as she looked at her reflection. Whoever was responsible for taking Gale from her and their child was going to suffer for it. They had to. She would make sure of it.

* * *

Mike was parked across the street from Vanessa's apartment. He watched a light go out in her window. Victor and him had been taking turns watching her over the last few weeks. No visits to the cops or DEA. She was getting boring, but at least her predictable routine made Mike's and Victor's job easier – until tonight.  
Vanessa never just left her home in the middle of the night. Mike had followed her to the drug store. He watched her as she went over to the pregnancy tests, and he cursed under his breath. He waited a few minutes after she bought the test, bought himself some gum, and then went back to her apartment.

He had watched the light from her window, wondering if he should tell Gus. If she was pregnant, this would change everything. He suddenly felt angry at Gale. Who could have known that nerd would get a girl pregnant and screw with them long after he was dead? Mike counted down the weeks since Gale's death. At the very least, Vanessa was 7 weeks pregnant. She could still have an abortion, or an unexpected miscarriage…

Mike shook his head. They had to know if she really was pregnant before he started planning something like that. Mike took out his phone and dialed a number.

"Yeah, looks like Gale might have left us a gift."


	3. Chapter 3

Vanessa pushed Gale's lab notes across the desk. Hank looked up at her, confused.

"I lied. Gale was a meth cook. He told me. Here's the proof," Vanessa nodded to the notebook.

Hank looked at her, stunned. "What?"

"Gale cooked meth."

"What!?"

"I lied to you, Detective Schrader." She took a seat across from him. "And I lied to that other detective, too. Gale was a meth cook. These are his lab notes."

Hank looked angrily at the notebook. "I don't understand. You just walk in here and tell me this now? Why?"

"I'm pregnant. Gale is the father."

Hank looked at her, eyebrows raised. "When did he tell you?"

"We'd only been seeing each other for a couple of weeks. At first he said he worked in a lab, he just didn't say what kind of lab. I know he was killed over something having to do with it. There's no other reason."

Hank examined a page with formulas. Gale made high-quality meth. The lab he worked in had to be state-of-the-art to produce such purity.

"Did he say anything about where the lab was? Who he worked with? Who he worked for?"

"He never said where it was, but he had a partner. Gale was his assistant. Gale said he was a master of chemistry, but I don't know his name. There was this man, though, that came to Gale's apartment the night he was shot."

Hank looked up from the notes.

"I was getting some of Gale's things to take to the hospital with me, that's when I grabbed that notebook. I didn't want the police to find it. But this guy showed up, then ran off when he saw me. I saw him at the hospital, too, the next day, after…," she paused for a minute. "Anyway, he was really angry looking. Dark eyes. Hispanic, I think."

Hank sat back in his chair, thinking. "Do you think this guy shot Gale?"

"I don't know. If he did, why would he come back and risk being seen?"

Hank nodded. Could it be possible Gale was Heisenberg? It just didn't seem to fit him, but Hank also didn't think it was possible this guy was having sex. He looked across his desk at the girl. Her hair was a mess and there were spots on her glasses. She looked comely enough, however. He sensed something from her, something vengeful and determined.

"Did Gale ever mention the name Heisenberg to you?"

"No, but Detective Roberts did. He said you were looking for him."

Hank nodded, thinking again.

"Vanessa, we are going to do everything we can to find the people responsible for this. But no more lies. No more hiding things."

"Of course," she leaned forward in her seat, her eyes flashing with a quiet anger. "But no hiding things from me. I want to know everything that you know."

Hank chuckled. "I'm not sure if that's possible."

"It is possible. You must have a file or something. I'd like to see it."

Hank hesitated. The last thing he wanted to do was upset a pregnant woman bent on revenge. But he couldn't let her have access to some of this stuff. Still…having this angry, justice-seeking woman on his side could prove helpful.

He reached for his files. "You have to keep everything between us. Okay?"

She nodded. "Okay."

Hank dumped the contents of his Heisenberg files on the desk. "Here's what we've got so far."

* * *

Victor frowned and started his car. She'd gone to the DEA, after all. He knew he should tell Mike, but he worried about what they'd do to her. Certainly Mike and Gus drew the line at harming a pregnant woman? Somewhere deep down he was pleased Gale had created life before he died. Sure, he had been annoyingly friendly and talked like an encyclopedia, but Gale didn't deserve what happened to him. How could any of them justify harming the woman Gale cared about and their child? It wasn't right.

Maybe he wouldn't tell anyone just yet what he'd seen. He'd tell Mike about Walt and Jesse's whisperings in the lab so Mike would take over watching them, and he could keep following Vanessa. He wanted to keep her actions a secret. For now, at least.

* * *

Vanessa saw that Jesse Pinkman lived in the neighborhood close to her brother's family. She parked her car across the street and watched. He lived in a nice house, too. It wasn't the kind of house she imagined a meth dealer would live in. She looked down at Hank's notes in his file. He couldn't go anywhere near Jesse after beating him senseless, but she could. He hadn't come right out and told Vanessa to spy, but she got the hint. If Jesse was involved in the meth trade, like Hank suspected, then he might have known Gale or whoever would want to harm him.

Jesse wasn't home so she sat there. She would stay there as long as she had to. She wasn't sure what she was going to do or say when Jesse came home. She got out her phone and looked up the baby website she used to keep track of her pregnancy. According to the site, it was only the size of a blueberry. She still had to wait a few more weeks to find out if it was a boy or a girl. She had no preference. She imagined Gale wouldn't either. Despite the small size of the embryo, she was having morning sickness from Hell. Her breasts were starting to feel tender. Her eyes stung with tears as she thought about having to go through this alone. It fueled the fire of justice within her. Jesse Pinkman had to know _something_. Anything.

Before long she saw a car pull into the driveway. A young man resembling the mugshot she had got out and went into the house. Still unsure of what her plan was, she got out of her car and went to the front door. When he answered, she was startled over how he looked at her: dazed, empty, tortured.

"Yeah?" He asked, looking her over suspiciously and behind her.

"Uh, I was just walking by, and I started to feel faint. This damn heat, right? Can I trouble you for a glass of water?"

Jesse glared at her for a minute. He started to close the door.

"No, wait, wait," She stepped into the doorway. "I'm pregnant, and I really don't feel so well." Vanessa put on her best acting skills, putting her hand to her forehead and the other to her belly, but suddenly she felt dizzy and nauseated for real. "Shit." Her face went pale.

"Are you okay?" Jesse said, concerned.

"I'm going to be sick. Where's your bathroom?"

Jesse reluctantly let her in and to the bathroom where he could hear her throwing up. He got her a glass of water and waited for her to come out. Her face was almost as red as her hair when she appeared.

"I'm sorry," she said, rubbing her glasses on her blouse then putting them back on. "I have morning sickness that lasts all day."

Jesse said nothing and handed her the glass. She drank almost all of it in large gulps. "Thanks," she said, wiping her mouth.

"Yeah, whatever. Are you okay to walk?"

Vanessa feigned dizziness again. "I'm not sure. Can I wait here for a couple minutes?"

Jesse shrugged. He sat down on his futon and lit a cigarette.

Vanessa thought that was rude since she just told him she was pregnant. She looked around the partially empty room.

"Did you just move in?"

"No."

Vanessa nodded as if what he said was interesting. After a few minutes, Jesse stood up.

"You okay now?" He went over to the door.

Vanessa tried to think fast. Should she pretend to faint? Get up like she was going to leave then collapse on the floor?

"Wait," she said.

Jesse opened the door. "Go."

"No, just listen," Vanessa took a deep breath. "I know how bad this will sound, but just hear me out, okay?"

Jesse glared at her, holding the front door wide open.

"I know who you are. You're Jesse Pinkman. I thought you could help me. My boyfriend, he died. His name was Gale. Gale Boetticher, and I think it was drug related. Somebody killed him. I thought maybe you knew him or heard about him? Maybe?"

Jesse's face turned as white as paper. He sat on the couch, lighting another cigarette, his hands shaking. He took a few drags.

"You said….you said you're pregnant?"

Vanessa nodded.

Jesse finished his cigarette then lit another. This changed everything. Gale would be a proud father if it wasn't for him…Gale would have a family. A normal life. Jesse felt his mind going to the dark place where Gale's eyes haunted him and gun shots sounded like cannon fire.

 _You don't have to do this…_

"You said his name was Gale?" Jesse asked quietly.

Vanessa nodded.

Jesse's hand shook as he sucked down his cigarette. He stirred the ashes in the ashtray. "How did you find me?"

"Detective Schrader."

He glared at her. "What the fuck, yo?!"

"I know what he did," she explained quickly. "I know he beat you up and put you in the hospital. I made him give me everything he had about meth dealers. You were in it. That's how I found you."

"So, you're working for the DEA?"

Suddenly her eyes narrowed, her expression hardened, and an icy edge was in her voice. "No. I'm working for him, me, and our child."

Jesse felt slightly disconcerted at this change in her demeanor, but he understood it. He looked her over for a minute. Her green eyes looked fierce behind her cat-eye glasses. He could see her and Gale together. There was an endearing quirkiness to her that was similar to Gale's; at least, when she wasn't filled with rage. Jesse couldn't change what he'd done to Gale, but he could do something now. He could do something for the one Gale had loved and the child he would never know about. "I know who's responsible."

Jesse looked in his pack of cigarettes at the lucky cigarette where he hid the ricin meant for Gus. Gus was going to kill Mr. White and him. Mr. White wanted to kill Gale and Gus. Mike and Victor had all been a part of it, too. Gus, Mike, Victor, and Mr. White; none of them were above killing innocent people. Poisoning, shooting, deception, blood, lies. Maybe this was his chance to no longer be a part of it.

Vanessa was watching him, looking confused. "If you know, we should go to the police, right?"

"No." Jesse took out the lucky cigarette and examined it. "We take care of it ourselves."

Vanessa shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "I, um….I don't understand."

"The people who are responsible for Gale's death are responsible for others. Other innocent people." He swallowed. "Kids."

"So, what does that mean? That we take care of it?"

"Look, I'm going to help you get these bitches, okay?" Jesse was getting impatient. "But you can't go to the cops, or the DEA, or anyone, alright? I know who had Gale killed. And I know how we can get them back."

 _Please, don't do this. You don't have to do this…_

Vanessa stared at him for a few minutes, a dark silence hung between them.

"Are you going to turn me into the drug lords or something?"

"What? No." Jesse turned the lucky cigarette over in his hands. "Something just has to be done. Gale didn't have to die." He saw Gale's face again, the tears, his hands up in surrender. "Gale didn't deserve it. You don't deserve it."

"So, you did know him."

"I met him once." Jesse thought of that day in the lab: Gale's bewildered expression and his friendliness.

 _You don't have to do this…_

Silence hung between them. They looked at each other, an understanding forming between them.

"Okay," she said finally. She took a pen and paper from the coffee table and began writing. Her hands shook with anxiety over what she was about to do. "This is my address. We should talk about this again, and only in person."

She stood up and walked out the door. Jesse sat still, hearing Gale's voice in his head again.

 _You don't have to do this…_

 _Yes, I do, Gale_ , he thought to himself. _I have to do this for you and the family you'll never know._

* * *

Vanessa answered the door, her face pale and her hair a mess.

"You all right?" Jesse asked as he stepped into her living room.

"This kid is kicking my ass." She lay down on her couch. "At least this won't last the whole pregnancy. It didn't with my mom." She unscrewed the cap from a bottle of ginger ale, finished it off, then tossed the empty bottle on a pile of others on the floor.

Jesse sat across from her. "Can I, like, get you something?"

She sighed, taking her glasses off and rubbing her eyes. "Can you get me another ginger ale, from the kitchen, back there." She pointed down the hall.

Jesse noticed all the art hanging on the walls as he opened the fridge. His heart squeezed when he saw a painting by Georgia O'Keeffe. He handed her the ginger ale, suddenly feeling like he needed to do more. "So…do you like have to go to the doctor and stuff? Get like an ultrasound or whatever?"

"Yeah. I already did that."

"Did they tell you what it is?"

"They can't tell that yet. In a few more weeks."

Jesse nodded slowly. "Well, like, if you need someone to go with you…"

Vanessa looked up at him.

Jesse shrugged. "Just, like, if you don't want to be alone."

Vanessa looked away and said nothing.

Jesse sat down and pulled out his lucky cigarette.

"You can't smoke in here," Vanessa said.

"I'm not." He pulled out the capsule with the ricin. "This stuff right here is poisonous. It's called ricin. It's untraceable. It'll be like they just died of natural causes, yo."

Vanessa stared at the capsule then at him.

"We'll need more," he said. "I know the guy that made this. He gave it to me to get rid of one of them, but we'll need enough for four guys." Jesse hesitated. "Actually, just three." He wasn't sure yet if he wanted to subject Mr. White to the same sentence as the others. Maybe they wouldn't need to get rid of him, but just scare him, threaten him. Jesse's jaw tightened as he thought of that night.

 _Do it! Do it now!_

Vanessa sat up and carefully took the capsule from him. She looked it over, and swallowed nervously. "How long does it take?"

"Couple days. They'll think they have like the flu or something."

Her face hardened. "Not nearly as much suffering as Gale had."

Her tone made Jesse shiver inwardly. He'd never met such a vengeful woman. "It's the best way," he said. "Untraceable to either of us."

She handed him the capsule and lay back down. "When can you get more?"

"I'll try to this week." He would have to tell Mr. White he'd lost this capsule and get him to make more. Mr. White would be pissed, but they'd have enough. It was worth hearing Mr. White call him stupid, irresponsible, the usual laundry list of faults.

"How?" She asked, looking up at the ceiling.

"How what?"

"How do we get them to take it?"

"I haven't figured that out yet," he put the capsule back in the cigarette.

"Why don't we just shoot them?" Her voice was flat.

"Well, I don't think I'll be able to get close enough for that…"

"You might not be able to." She sat up. "Maybe I can."

Jesse stared at her, not sure what to think. She looked past him, nibbling on her thumbnail.

"Did you love him?" Jesse asked quietly. She didn't appear to hear him. Jesse wished he hadn't asked.

She gulped down some more Ginger Ale. They sat in silence for a few minutes. Jesse decided it was best he left her alone.

"So, I guess I'll come by in a few days," he said as he went towards the door. "We can figure out how to do it then."

Vanessa said nothing.

He opened the door to leave, when she said, "I don't know."

"What?"

She was facing the other way on the couch. All he could see was the top of her red head. "I don't know….I don't know if I loved him or not."

Jesse hesitated, then closed the door.

"I mean, I can't just say I loved him because he's dead, you know? It would be a lie. The truth is - I don't know."

Jesse cautiously walked back over and sat down. She wasn't looking at him. She was peeling the label off the bottle of Ginger Ale as she talked.

"And I'm so mad," she said. "I'm so mad that I didn't get the chance to find out. And now there's going to be a kid…he would have loved this kid. If things hadn't worked out between us in the end, he would have always taken care of our child. No matter what. I don't know if I loved him," her voice cracked with emotion. "I know he loved me. I liked him. I cared about him. And I miss him…" She turned to Jesse. "I don't know. Is that love? Does all that together equal love?"

Jesse thought about Jane. He hadn't thought about her in a long time. He'd liked her, cared about her, and he missed her everyday. He never questioned whether that was love or not.

"When you lose someone," he said. "And you can't stop thinking about them, and you wish so hard they were with you, I think that's love."

Jesse really wanted a cigarette. This was a dangerous conversation to be having with her. But he hadn't been able to talk about Jane with anyone. At least Vanessa understood loss on that level.

"I guess." Vanessa looked thoughtful. "Why did they do it? What did he do?"

Jesse swallowed. This was getting too intense, too close. He stood up. "I don't know. I need to go." He left her apartment, walking quickly to his car. He got inside and rested his head on the steering wheel.

 _You don't have to do this…_

She could never know the truth. Not now. Not ever.

* * *

Victor's grip tightened around the steering wheel. What could they possibly be meeting about? Did she know what Jesse did? It was getting out of hand, but he still wasn't sure what to do. If he reported it to Mike, they would do something to her. Maybe not kill her, but probably cause her to lose the baby. He looked down at the plastic bag peeking out from underneath the passenger seat. He'd found the positive pregnancy test in her trash a while ago, but didn't tell anyone. They were going to find out anyway. They would make her lose the baby to scare her and to keep that baby from growing into an adult that would try to find his or her father. No loose ends, ever. It was Gus's policy.

If he said nothing, it would come back to haunt him. He'd seen the way Gus and Mike turned on someone they once respected. His life wasn't valuable to them at all. Victor slammed his fist into the steering wheel and cursed. He had to do something, but what? No matter what he did, someone was going to die. He had to decide whose life was more valuable. He drove off, his mind made up.


End file.
